


Where All Stories Begin

by Mithen



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 20:03:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gilbert and Anne meet a Lion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where All Stories Begin

Anne was waiting for him.

Gilbert took one step into the darkness, and then another, and then she was seizing his hand (young, so young, his beautiful red-haired Anne) and drawing him through into the sunlight.

They were on a vast green lawn, under an endless blue sky. And on the other side of the lawn, standing under a flowering tree--

"Anne, I don't think--"

It was of no use, of course. With a gasp of pure rapture Anne was rushing across the green sward (and was any grass on Earth truly that green? Gilbert wondered) to throw her arms around the great Lion standing there. She buried her face in His mane and breathed in deep, and the wild tawny eyes of the Lion met Gilbert's with a smile dancing in their golden depths. Gilbert felt like he could lose himself in their brilliance. He felt a wave of wonder break over him like surf, and then there was no surprise at all when the Lion spoke gently to Anne: "Be welcome, my Daughter."

The Lion rested one paw (vast enough to crush a dragon, tender enough to catch a falling sparrow) on Anne's shoulder. "There are people waiting here to see you."

Gilbert could hear Anne catch her breath. "Matthew?" she breathed. "Marilla?" The Lion met her eyes gravely. "Wa--Walter?"

The golden mane shifted as the Lion nodded, and Gilbert caught a fragrance of meadows and amaranthine flowers. "And little Joyce," said the voice as deep as time itself.

Anne buried her face in the Lion's mane and sobbed once, a sound of pure and utter happiness. Straightening, she held out one hand to Gilbert, leaving one still buried in flowing gold. Her eyes shone brighter than stars, the brightest thing in all Gilbert Blythe's long and happy life.

"Oh Gilbert," she cried, "Let's go!"

And Gilbert went to his love and together they walked with Aslan, further up and further in, to where all stories begin and joy is eternal as the dawn.


End file.
